The clarion. [volume] (Jackson, Miss.) 1883-1888, 1887-06-01

sex
Women far and near, the aspiring and am
bilious, the sick, the weary the starving and
the heart sore, those who had broken their
wings against the solid walls that shut in a
wounan's life, these came to her, and they
poured out all their hearts 70 her and be
sought her to tell them what they might do.
As she grew older, and her vision gradually
took in all the round horizon of experience.
many things were clear to her that had been
dark before. 1t became clear TO her that,
limited only by the moral laws, freedom of
viii is the greatest good for humanity, man
and woman alike.
She taught them to reverence nothing
merely because il is old.
She taught them 10 look into the heart Of
things, and ask: Are courage, viii. intel
lectual power, the strength to achieve, quail
ties that belong only to menl
She pointed out 10 them that the personal
feelings and emotions of man or woman count
for very little in the destiny of the race.
Greater than man nature or woman's ma
ture Is human nature, underlying all, holding
all in It's grasp She showed them how alb
surd anatomical and physiological supersti-
tions concerning woman's mind and body
have been taught by medical men through
hoary centuries. They stand only because no
woman contTadicts them.
Out of the strength drawn from the bitter
cup she herself had drained, though they
knew it not, she was able 70 tell them that the
individual happiness or unhappiness is pitt
fully small thing. That the road to wise con
tent was 20 lose sight OF their own emotions
and SORROWS in the culture of the mind in
broad human interests. Then suffering will
no longer be the lot of woman
She bade them, fiinging away as far as
may be their personal hopes, fears and dis
appointments, TO keep step with the grand
music of the onward cycles of time.
She told them To see to it that they did not
lie like clods 10 be trOddcn under foot. or
showed out Of the way, but that themselves
be up and working for the progress Of
womankind towards the light-womankind.
the laggard half of the human race For
greater than passion and gratified petty am
bition, yea, greater than love even, greater
than all, is this march of humanity into the
light
Further, as they would find peace for their
souls, she hade them never lose sight of re-
solve, never cease to viii and to aspire
Every steadfast effort that a woman makes,
every striving of the individual 10 become
freer and stronger, even through disappoint-
ment, sickness and weariness, brings mo-
ment nearer the good time which is surely
coming for the sex. The woman's day is at
hand 1t viii be a brighter, happier day than
the ages have yet disclosed. She told them
to be sure of that. She told them of her own
unalterable faith that thus the centuries to
come would develop a strong and splendid
race of women, it mates for the kings among
men.
So she talked with them till their hearts
burned within them. Her voice had a note
like trumpet ring. From that day on there
was for them no more despair, no more look
ing backward. Like her they set their faces
forward and pressed on. Women came TO
her with tears in their eyes, they sent mes
sages from half round the world, thanking
her and blessing her for all she had been to
them
Shirley the Poet became Shirley the In
spirer, the Comforter
In giving happiness to others she lost her
self and ceased to think of her own sorrows
and disappointments. So she found at last,
in measure, happiness for herself.
She had somewhat of reward, the sweetest,
highest reward that can fan to mortal lot
And yet-all that she had done and wrought
for others could not be accomplished without
some straining at the silver cord.
"To him that overcometh all things shall
be given was said of old. Shirley had over
X
her nature to give out always more than she
received. So at last she began to be exhausted
That was the pity of it. A sense of WEAKNESS
oppressed her, distaste for even the daily
tasks she liked best She said TO herself once
more that she must have change. Her life
seemed wearing out
Alas, alas 1t was the helmet of iron press
ing upon the golden hair The iron pressed
at last upon the golden heart, too.
dow .rbilo 10 tl,,,g eici,o1 60. oI,o,,.x.
Shirley got a letter. 1t said:
MY wife is dead. May l come,
"DUMoRAY."
Once more, past youth as she was, her heart
gave wild bound. She covered her face
with her hands, as had been her won't in her
childhood when powerfully excited. Then
she laughed at herself in scorn, then she was
vexed at her folly. After all, was it still only
the same uncontrolled, passionate spirit of
oldl Was this all she had learned In these
years of hard discipline.
She shook her head impatiently, saying 10
herself:
"Shirley Carstone you are an IDIOT
Be sure the gray twilight is full of sweet
thoughts for her that night. The forlorn
wings would be free TO fly at last. Was the
light coming even to hers Were peace, joy,
love to be hers too, even after all these wears
IL seemed too good to be true. But there
was his letter. 1t was true. Yet even in
that moment the supreme dream of her life
m.
the poem! She would indeed write it now
The toiling for others, the weary occupation
at tasks she disliked-that was over at last at
lastl Nothing would come between her and
her hopes
Once again, as twice before, she thought of
the pride the master would take in his pupils
work A wave of happiness surged across
her spirit. She said 10 herself:
"High as he is, distinguished as he is, he
shall be proud of mes"
fls,c
ously through mountain Of cloud.
Meantime, thousand miles away, a man
impatiently awaited the creeping of the show
footed days. He could scarcely keep himself
within bounds till the pokey United States
mail brought him letter. He went off to
himself to read it when it came He opened
it with unsteady hands. 1t only said:
''Come. SHIRLEY"
Comet Only that one word
How he would gather her TO bis heart and
hold her there foreyerl Her weak woman's
arms had upborne 50 much, and so long.
Now his strong mans hands would hold hers,
and strengthen them and steady them the
rest of the way. He would care for her as
no husband ever cared for wife before, be
cause she had suffered so much. One of his
first thoughts, too, was for the poem. Above
all, she should write her poem at last. He
would uphold her and encourage her while
she wrote. No more weariness or self sacrifice
either. Light had broken for them both.
He hastened to be gone. At the moment Of
starting an unexpected business matter held
| him back till next day. He swallowed his
| impatience and waited Another letter from
Shirley in the morning. He opened it and
was stunned to read:
''There is great news for you. | have
| found your sons
The rest of the letter left no doubt of the
| truth. Every point Of information was sup
piled, even to mention of the turquoise ring
| 1t was one he had given to Myra IN the days
/ of their brief, foolish courtship The unfortu
| nate woman had passion f1r jewels, which
| clung to her even in her cfazed condition
/ Beyond doubt, then, she had removed tht
| children and her Jewel box from the housf
| before she fired it. The burglar, prowling
/ there in the midnight, had taken both. II
| was the ring which sealed the foolish engage
ment that at last made it possible to trace tht
/ boys.
No, not link was missing from this strangs
/ story. Shirley did not say where his boy
were, however. She merely told him she
| knew where they were. Boysf Why, they
| must be men long since.
As he settled himself in the train he wa'
half dazed with surprise and JOY. He, th'
| lonely and kindredless among men-wife
/ children, home, all that men hold dearest
| were TO be his at last In strange, happy
| dream he turned his face once more toward
| Linwood But most of all he hugged to hi
heart the letter that contained only the on
golden word:
| Gomez
CHAPTER XIV.
| AT LAST
@Robert, said Shirley, show would it be
| l knew your fatherfa
HAnd if you did, Shirley If be was MAJ
| whom / could not be proud of, / would thanl
| you TO leave his name unrevealed. Since N.
| ancestry IS not what l thought il let it &c